


Parable of an American Diner

by mirasie



Category: Original Work
Genre: Diners, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-19 10:32:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17599625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mirasie/pseuds/mirasie
Summary: All may find respite here.





	Parable of an American Diner

The miles of empty dark highway slip away. Your stomach grumbles, and as though on cue lights appear on the horizon. You steer off the highway and onto some nameless road that you assume must lead to some nowhere town that now sits in the quiet of the night, and then into the parking lot of the diner. No matter where you go they’re all the same - slightly dingy and heavy with the smell of burnt coffee and grease. 

On the door is a small plaque. ‘All may find respite here.’

You are alone except for the waitress and the cook who sit in a back corner playing cards. The waitress dutifully stands and walks over the the counter where you’ve sat, setting out a small white mug. Her apron is stained with coffee, her teeth with nicotine.

"The usual?" she asks. You nod, though you're certain you've never been here before.

The waitress calls out your order to the cook in words that aren't on a menu, like a prayer only the studied could understand. The cook in turn gets to work. The waitress comes back over to fill the mug with coffee, and then again in a few minutes to bring your meal.

"If you need anything, just holler," she tells you before returning to the cook and their card game.

You eat, you drink, though you don't really pay attention as the minutes tick by. When your plate is empty you reach into your pocket for your wallet, pulling out and placing a ten dollar bill on the table to cover your bill. 

You wander back to the restroom to wash your hands. When you see your reflection in the mirror you wonder when your skin became so pale and your eyes so distance. You don't linger on your appearance though, and leave the restroom and the diner. 

You pull out of the parking lot and back onto the nameless road and then onto the highway.

The miles of empty dark highway slip away. Your stomach grumbles, and as though on cue lights appear on the horizon. You steer off the highway and onto some nameless road that you assume must lead to some nowhere town that now sits in the quiet of the night, and then into the parking lot of the diner. No matter where you go they’re all the same - slightly dingy and heavy with the smell of burnt coffee and grease. Only this one is more familiar.

On the door is a small plaque. ‘All may find respite here.’

You are alone except for the waitress and the cook who sit in a back corner playing cards. The waitress dutifully stands and walks over the the counter where you’ve sat, setting out a small white mug. Her apron is stained with blood, her teeth with hellfire.

"The usual?" she asks. You nod. You've been here before, though you can't remember when.

The waitress calls out your order to the cook in words that aren't on a menu, like a prayer only the studied could understand. The cook in turn gets to work. The waitress comes back over to fill the mug with coffee, and then again in a few minutes to bring your meal.

"If you need anything, just holler," she tells you before returning to the cook and their card game.

You eat, you drink, though the greasy fare tastes like ashes in your mouth. Most times you can ignore it, but now the minutes crawl by as you carefully chew and swallow. When your plate is empty you reach into your pocket for your wallet, pulling out and placing a ten dollar bill on the table to cover your bill. 

You wander back to the restroom to wash your hands. When you see your reflection in the mirror you wonder when your skin became so grey and your eyes so cloudy. You don't linger on your appearance though, and leave the restroom and the diner. 

You pull out of the parking lot and back onto the nameless road and then onto the highway.

The miles of empty dark highway slip away as does your memory. Your stomach grumbles, and as though on cue lights appear on the horizon. You steer off the highway and onto some nameless road that you assume must lead to some nowhere town that now sits in the quiet of the night, and then into the parking lot of the diner. No matter where you go they’re all the same - slightly dingy and heavy with the smell of burnt coffee and grease. 

On the door is a small plaque. 

All may find respite here.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a story that I came up with in the shower, saved here to share with a friend.


End file.
